The Royal Military Academy's Impostor Owns a Dungeon [BL] - Chapter 296

Chapter 296: Recalibrating
There was barely any warning and definitely no final countdown.

Only the jarring groan of metal and that sudden gut-wrenching pull of gravity that came with the ringing in his ears.

Luca came to first.

His vision spun as his eyes fluttered open. And he was confused, as the first thing he saw was a faint glow around them.

The air was thick with dust and heat, and everything hurt in a dull, muffled way. It was a very familiar feeling, but one he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.

Yet right now, it told him that they’d likely crashed into something, somewhere, and hard.

But despite the heat around him, there was this cooling presence against his side.

Xavier. Steady, solid, and protective.

The Prince hadn’t let go. His arm was still shielded over Luca in a reflexive arc, spiritual energy crackling faintly around them like a net trying to hold reality together.

Luca coughed, breath catching as the sharp scent of burning metal filled his lungs.

His hands trembled as they pushed against the debris-littered floor.

“X-Xavier?” he rasped.

The protector stirred, eyelids fluttering open, his gaze unfocused before narrowing sharply on Luca.

“You’re okay,” Xavier said hoarsely, relief flashing in his expression before his muscles slackened, exhaustion winning for a second.

Then came the sound.

“Host—” D-29’s voice crackled weakly, distorted like it had been shoved through a cheese grater.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no no no—SYSTEM FAILURE. Host, my systems are compromised! I cannot access the Dungeon!”

Luca blinked.

“…What?” Luca whispered, still dizzy.

D-29 wailed again, like a panicked kettle. “The Dungeon Space is unreachable!

Sid tried to console the wailing system but instead got pitying looks as D-29 started to understand what it must have been like for the guardian mecha.

Which really wasn’t so bad unless you were a system that normally had access to so much more.

“How could you live like this?!” complained the little system, which had been relegated to a mecha AI.

“…”

Luca barely processed the horror before a groan echoed nearby.

“Anyone there?” Luca called, his voice raw.

Kyle was slumped against a wall, surrounded by fragments of splintered crates and scorched plating. One arm was curled tightly around a mop of tangled blonde hair.

Ollie.

The bundled blonde looked like a dazed dumpling—clutching a half-eaten fruit strip and blinking up with glassy eyes, trembling faintly.

He hadn’t woken during the crash. Not really.

Only when a warm, sticky wetness began to spread beneath his cheek did he stir.

For a second, he panicked.

Was he going to drown? His dream had been of bungee jumping, so the feeling of wetness jolted him into waking up.

And then the smell hit him. Blood.

“!!!”

But then he realized—he wasn’t the one bleeding.

It was worse. The blood came from someone else entirely.

“Kyle—” Ollie’s voice cracked as he lifted his head, eyes widening in horror.

There was a gash on his temple, thin but steady, the blood trickling down past his cheek.

Kyle, in response, just tilted his head lazily.

“Hey,” he greeted with a weak smirk. “Look who’s up.”

“You’re—! But you’re—!” Ollie stammered, staring at the blood.

“Bleeding. Yeah. Head wounds. They’re dramatic like that.” The adjutant tried to wave it off, but his hand didn’t quite reach.

“You’re bleeding,” Ollie repeated, voice rising an octave.

“I’ve bled before. What’s new?” He deadpanned. “Pretty sure that’s not the worst part of today.”

Ollie stared, lips wobbling.

“Don’t cry,” Kyle added, brows furrowing. “You have to maintain your honor as the first person to nap through a full ship crash.”

“I did not—” Ollie sniffled. “I’m not crying.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“I’m not!”

“Then why do you sound like a hiccuping puppy?” Kyle teased.

“A—what?”

“Nothing.” Shrugging, the exhausted giant still managed to flash a roguish smile, his mouth tipping up in a way that made the mop want to smack him.

“You’re stupid,” Ollie, face pink and eyes swimming, clutched him harder.

“And you’re heavy.” Kyle coughed, leaning back against the broken panel as he consoled the trembling bundle.

Ollie didn’t even argue.

He just buried his face back into the crook of the guy’s neck, muttering to himself, “This is why you’re not cute…”

“Yeah, yeah,” chuckled the un-cute adjutant who patted the blonde’s back.

For a moment—just one—they stayed like that.

But the dread hadn’t passed.

And in the silence that followed, the air began to shift.

A pulse. Then a flash.

And far off in the chamber, a strange system prompt that didn’t belong to D-29 flickered to life.

[SYSTEM NOTICE: RECALIBRATING DUNGEON DIFFICULTY LEVEL…]

The words hovered in mid-air, projected through a holographic glyph that hadn’t been there seconds before.

D-29 lagged.

“This—?”

“…Host?” the system said, its voice suddenly very, very small.

[NEW CHALLENGERS DETECTED]

[DIFFICULTY INCREASED TO: A-CLASS]

“WHAT?!” D-29 screeched.

Another vibration rippled through the floor. This time, louder.

And just as everyone, including Butler Gary, sat up straighter to better stare at the flickering prompt—

A second projection bloomed in the air, ominous and final.

[WARNING: BOSS ROOM RESET IN PROGRESS.]

“Oh no,” Luca whispered.

And somewhere—within a chamber lined with thrones of bone and old black flame—something shifted.

Darkness throbbed like a pulse.

The throne chamber was suddenly too silent.

Heavy shadows clung to the jagged stone walls like living things, as if even the ancient architecture knew that what lay here should not be disturbed.

If only.

[WARNING: BOSS ROOM RESET IN PROGRESS.]

The prompt hovered midair, humming faintly, unquestionable and unreasonable.

In the center of the throne room, a lone figure knelt in the carnage’s aftermath.

Armor cracked. One arm was slack at her side. The other clutching a dull sword streaked with blood, both hers and otherwise. She had fought alone now—longer than anyone should’ve survived.

And she’d almost done it.

The battle had been brutal and relentless, but the creature, whatever that was, had started faltering.

But then—this.

[NEW CHALLENGERS DETECTED]

The prompt blinked once, then began recalculating.

Her breath hitched. Her head rose.

[DIFFICULTY INCREASED TO: A-CLASS.]

She didn’t curse.

Didn’t scream.

She only blinked, tasting iron as her mouth curved into the faintest wry smile.

Of course. Of course, this would happen now.

Just as she’d finally cornered it. Just as the final blow was about to land. Just when the blood-slicked floor stopped moving under her boots.

She rose slowly. The throne chamber around her rumbled as the system recalibrated. The glowing glyphs along the ground reignited like veins bursting with flame.

The creature beyond the gates shifted.

It hadn’t yet shown its complete form—not entirely. Only towering limbs, serrated bone, and spiraling horns hinted at its nature.

And she wasn’t planning on staying there to see more.